Caught
by EKWTSM9
Summary: A little drabble for a Sunday afternoon...


**Caught**

"I'm really glad you decided to take the night bus this time, sweetheart," Mike grinned as he shot a glance across the front seat of the tan Galaxie.

With a matching mega-watt smile, the petite brunette sharply tossed her head, allowing her long straight hair to flip over her shoulder as her blue eyes took in the welcome sight of her father's strong profile. "So we could spend a few more hours together?" she ventured with a gentle chuckle.

His eyebrows bobbing, Mike nodded vigorously. "You got it. When I only have you home for a week, every hour counts, right?"

"Right."

"So, ah, did you get much sleep?"

"Enough," she answered, her eyebrows knitting; she knew her father too well to believe this was just an innocent inquiry. "Why?"

Mike chuckled. "Well, I have the next couple of days off and I thought we could start off on the right foot by heading out to Baker for a run. What do you say?"

It was a stunningly beautiful day in the City by the Bay and Jeannie Stone threw her head back and laughed. "You read my mind! Yes, yes, yes! I'm stiff from sitting so long."

"So how about this… we go for a run, come back and shower and change, and then I'll give Steve a call and see if he can join us for dinner on the Wharf tonight… my treat."

Jeannie's smile wavered and she stared at her father again under a lowered brow. "You're kidding, right?"

With a sudden frown, confused, Mike snapped a glance in her direction. "What do you mean?"

"Dinner on you…? What are you hiding, Mike?"

Her father chuckled as he swung the large sedan onto De Haro. "I'm not hiding anything. I'm in a generous mood – " Taking his right hand off the steering wheel, he pointed at her before she could interrupt. "Ah ah ah," he admonished quickly, "don't look a gift horse in the mouth, especially this gift horse."

She raised both hands in surrender and laughed affectionately. "My lips are zipped." She glanced up at the house as Mike pulled the sedan to the curb. "So, ah, so Steve has some time off now too?" she asked with feigned innocence.

Mike shot her another look as he shifted into Park and turned off the engine. "Just tonight; he's taking his vacation next week. I think he's going to Lake Tahoe to do some water-skiing."

Within minutes they were in the house and heading to their respective bedrooms, Mike lugging his daughter's heavy suitcase up the steep staircase and then to her room.

She hefted the case onto the bed and opened it, rifling through the neatly folded clothes for her jogging shorts and a t-shirt.

"So where do you want to eat tonight?" her father called from his bedroom. She knew he was getting changed as well.

"Gee, I don't know," she yelled back, "have any new restaurants opened since the last time we went down there?"

She knew her father liked to keep abreast of any new eateries opening in his beloved city, even though he remained faithful to his favourites. And she knew his young partner did the same.

"What was that?"

She chuckled to herself; Mike was probably rooting through his closet looking for his sneakers and hadn't heard her. Pulling her shorts on, she grabbed her running shoes out of the suitcase and walked down the hallway to his room. Her father was standing at the bureau, just pulling his t-shirt over his head.

"I said –" she began with a chuckle then stopped abruptly.

Mike quickly pulled the t-shirt down and turned to face her. She was staring at him with a frown and he froze momentarily, confused. "What?" he asked quietly.

Her blue eyes snapped briefly to his left side then back to his face. "What's that?" she asked quietly.

His head went back slightly and his brows knit. "What's what?"

She met his stare defiantly. "Lift your shirt."

Mike tried a smile. "Jeannie…"

"Dad, lift your shirt."

She used the term so infrequently that it often threw him when she did; he also knew whenever she said it, she was usually deadly serious.

Closing his eyes briefly, and with a resigned sigh, he lifted the left side of his black Giants t-shirt, watching as her eyes snapped to the still healing scar on his side. She stood perfectly still for several long seconds then lifted her gaze again to meet his hooded stare. "Is that a bullet wound?"

He let the shirt drop back down. "Jeannie…"

"Is that a bullet wound?" she asked again, her tone sharp but controlled.

He cleared his throat self-consciously then nodded slightly. "Yes."

Her control wavered slightly and she bit her top lip. He began to take a step towards her then stopped. This was her moment and he had to let her take the lead. She swallowed heavily. "When did it happen?" she asked softly, suddenly sounding like a very scared little girl.

A slight, reassuring smile played over his lips. "A couple of months ago."

She swallowed again and suddenly her eyes became very bright. "Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered, as if afraid to hear the answer.

"Because it wasn't serious and I didn't want you to worry."

"Daddy –"

"Jeannie." Mike cocked his head and stared at her evenly, his brows raised. She stared into his eyes; eventually he sighed and turned towards the bed. "Come here," he ordered softly, gesturing for her to join him as he sat on the edge of the bed.

She slowly crossed the room and sat beside him. He put his right arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, feeling her arm snake around his back. Her hand settled on his side and she squeezed then quickly pulled away, gasping. Mike chuckled gently, "It's okay, sweetheart, it doesn't hurt… honestly."

She looked up at him, her features still contorted with worry then she buried her head into his shoulder. "Will you at least tell me what happened?"

Mike snorted in amusement, pulling her closer. "What do you think?"

She sighed heavily. Her father had never shared his professional life with her, even when her mother was alive. He had always wanted to separate his two lives, and he did so with amazing success. She had been aware, since she was a very little girl, that her mother worried constantly whenever Mike went off to work, but it was a worry that never overwhelmed her life and one she never allowed her young daughter to experience and emulate.

"Was Steve with you?" she asked quietly.

She felt her father nod slowly. "Afterwards, yeah… Let's just say I, ah, well, I did something I would have severely reprimanded a rookie for doing and I paid the price. But like I said, it wasn't serious. I got lucky. And I won't be doing something so… foolhardy again. You have my word on that." He pulled her closer and she felt him quietly laughing. "Besides, I don't just have to answer to you anymore, you know… Steve is more than willing and able to tell me when he disapproves of something I do."

She pulled away from him slightly so she could look up at his face. "Really?"

He looked down at her and smiled. "Really. You have no idea." He made a face and rolled his eyes and he could feel her giggle starting to build.

She tightened her hold on him and leaned back against his shoulder. "I just worry about you, Daddy. I don't want you to get hurt. It scares me."

Mike sighed heavily and pulled her closer once more. "You don't have to worry about me, sweetheart. I'm not a risk-taker, believe me. And I'll make you a promise, okay?"

She pulled away from him again and looked up, frowning.

He looked down at her lovingly and smiled softly. "I promise you that if I ever get hurt on the job, and I mean really hurt, not something like this," he tilted his head towards his left side, "that the first phone call Steve makes will be to you. But that's never gonna happen, sweetheart, because I'm never gonna let it happen. Do you believe me?"

She stared at him without moving for several long seconds, then closed her eyes and nodded slightly. "I believe you," she confirmed quietly.

"Good." He pulled her close again and kissed the top of her head. "Well, I think we better get a move on or we're not gonna have time to shower before dinner and I don't think Steve'll be impressed, do you?"

Laughing, Jeannie gave her father one more squeeze before releasing him and standing up. She faced him, grabbing his hands and pulling him to his feet. "Lift your shirt again," she instructed and, after a moment's hesitation, he did as he was told. She stared at the large scar that scored and dimpled his skin just above his waist. And though she couldn't see it, she knew he also bore a large scar on the right side of his abdomen from a wound he had suffered years before.

Eventually her eyes rose to his face and he lowered the shirt once more. "You never answered my question," she said quietly and watched as her father inhaled deeply before, she knew, he was once more going to explain why he wasn't going to tell her what had happened.

"Jeannie…"

"I asked you if any new restaurants had opened in The City since the last time I was here," she continued with a saucy smile and watched as his frown turned into a peeved smirk. Anticipating his next move, she danced backwards nimbly as he reached out to swat her, chuckling.

"You little…" she heard him mumble before he began to laugh.

"Find your sneakers!" she called back through the doorway as she disappeared down the stairs.

"I will," he grumbled as he started towards the closet. "Listen, why don't you give Steve a call and ask him about restaurants if you're so interested, and at the same time you can invite him to dinner tonight! How does that sound?!"

There was a silent pause, and Mike grinned to himself. He knew his daughter had been surprised, and delighted, by his suggestion; her teenage crush was abundantly evident to the doting dad. He knew it was never going to go anywhere, so what was the harm in briefly taking his daughter's attention away from the seriousness of the last few minutes. "You know the number, right?!" he called out again.

"Ah… ah, yeah, I do," he heard her yell back almost hesitantly and he chuckled to himself again. She knew his office number at The Hall, of course, but the fact that she knew Steve's was a little nugget of information that he always suspected and had now been confirmed.

Laughing, Mike opened the closet door and picked up his sneakers. As he sat on the bed to put them on, he knew that the next few days of having his daughter back under his roof was all he really needed in the world at the moment.


End file.
